Happy Thanksgiving, Steve
by 8belles
Summary: Holidays are very hard when you've lost people and lived through hell. Steve gets an invitation to a Stark party for Thanksgiving. Everyone will be there... will Steve? (appearances by all our Fav S.H.I.E.L.D. folks and some AVENGERS)
1. The Invitation

Happy Thanksgiving, Steve.

Steve put the worn mailbox key into the lock of the old dented brass mailbox, his name scrawled in pen on a slip of paper behind the tiny glass window. It was a daily reminder to him that his apartment was only his as long as he paid the rent. The landlord somehow didn't seem to care that he was Steve Rogers, like it seemed everyone else did. But then again, his landlord was some multistate corporation who only bothered him when the rent was due. Lucky for his floor, Rogers was a handy guy and fixed many of his neighbor's small jobs when they needed it, instead of calling the building superintendent. By doing so, the glamor of Captain America wore off and he was just Steve Rogers who lived down the hall.

There was mostly junk in his mailbox and nothing for Bucky, who had taken up residence in his apartment. Steve envied his best friend's anonymity but after being a ghost for fifty years, it would take a while for the marketing fiends to find him. _Not sure what you'd try to sell to a Brooklyn born former Russian assassin with a bit of a brainwashing issue and PTSD_, Steve thought. Pulling out advertisements and solicitations in handfuls, his fingers touched a thick envelope of very smooth paper. It felt opulent just by its texture. Rogers speculated it was from Stark, or at least Pepper, who had more social grace than her fiancé.

Dumping the junk mail in the trashcan in the tiny lobby, which more an entrance hall to the older building, he examined the envelope. In precise calligraphic script, his name was written expertly with flawless black ink. The paper had the sheen of a living thing. A smirk formed in the corner of his mouth as Rogers regarded the thick envelope; Tony always had a flair for the dramatic.

Breaking the seal on the opposite side, he pulled out a thick vellum card of warm orange gilt with autumn leaves beautifully cascading across the paper. A matching reply card and separating tissue also tumbled out. Stooping to pick them up from the cracked white subway tile floor, Cap wondered silently if this was a wedding invitation or some sort of black tie affair. He recalled his mother gushing about some parish member having such stationary printed up for their wedding and how_ extraordinary_ it was! How "high class" it seemed and how did they ever afford it! That memory brought a frown to his brow, how much glitz and glamor America seemed to need these days for its 'entertainment'.

Forgetting the memory, knowing it would only make him angry, he looked at the invitation after picking up the reply card and tissue. In the same elegant, hand written script, it read:

"The honor of your presence is requested for a Thanksgiving celebratory dinner to honour our friends and the many thanks we have to share.

Two pm, Avengers Tower

Top Floor.

Attire Comfortable,"

Steve glanced at the reply card and its pre-stamped addressed envelope, all the same beautiful orange and gold flake. There was a place to indicate if he was coming and who his "plus one" would be.

_Plus one?_ he pondered. Well, of course Bucky since he didn't get his own invitation would be his plus one. In the back of his mind, Cap thought it was a bit of a rub to James not to have his own invite.

Unexpectedly, his cell phone rang in his pocket. He was used to them now, but it didn't mean he liked them. "Rogers." was his curt answer.

"Steve! Did you get your invitation yet?" It was Black Widow. Her voice purred and sounded vaguely like bubbly champagne.

Smiling at her warm tone, "Well, yes. As a matter of fact, I am reading it right now."

"So who's your plus one?" she asked quickly. Steve could hear the noise of traffic and non-English speakers in the background. Who knows where she was, especially after Washington D.C.

"I… Well. Bucky… I guess." Steve replied hesitantly, "He didn't get his own invite."

"Oh." She sounded suddenly deflated, "Well, that's _too bad_ Stark didn't include James."

"Why? Are you trying to set me up _again_?" Steve sighed wearily into the telephone. Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, while holding the invitation, he could smell the faint odor of Pepper's perfume. _Boy did that woman have style. Thank goodness Tony found her,_ Cap thought waiting for Widow's reply.

"_Me_? Now what would ever give you that impression?" she mocked him with feigned innocence. In his imagination, he could see her best false flatter expression, eyes batting and hand to her chest.

"Natasha-" Steve began but then was interrupted by a stream of what he figured were Russian expletives.

"Sorry. Gotta go. Think about that plus one!" she said quickly and hung up.

Steve stared at his now quiet phone and replied, "Who said I was even going at all?"


	2. Good Enough?

Happy Thanksgiving, Steve ch 2

Trudging upstairs, he opened the apartment door, chucking the gorgeous invitation down and dropping his keys in the bowl on the hallway table. The framed black and white picture of Peggy next to the bowl smiled benignly at him causing him a small heartache. Turning away, he entered the kitchenette and opened the fridge door for a snack. Not seeing anything in particular he wanted, he closed it and grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the counter.

"Bucky?" Steve called out to the rest of the apartment. There was no reply, but that was not unusual. James often went out to explore this 'new' Brooklyn that he found himself in now. Rogers didn't worry; he always came home around dinnertime.

Moving around the breakfast counter, Cap looked out the windows as the north wind blew a gust by his building. Bits of paper and the odd plastic bag floated on the draft with some yellow leaves mixed in. The apple crunched in his mouth and was so much sweeter than he remembered apples being. Earlier, he had seen a supermarket ad for some variety called 'Honeycrisp' selling at almost two dollars a pound. Rogers didn't gawk, but he was certainly surprised at the price. Once he tasted one, after Bucky reminded him they were not exactly poor anymore, he understood the fascination. In his mind, though, the price was still too high for an apple. Steve felt the need to add that apple to his list, then summarily cross it off as a reminder never to pay that much for produce, no matter how good it tasted.

Fall in New York was a fickle thing, he observed. One day would be pleasant and sunny the next a raging storm throwing cold rain in your face and chilling you to the bone. A shiver went down his spine recalling his sick years. Barnes was there, his omnipresent guardian angel, caring for him when he caught the flu from being out in the changeable weather. Chewing thoughtfully, he watched the sun begin its early fall decent throwing arms of orange light out over the city. A few streetlights came on below with the occasional apartment light bulb flickering to life.

_Dinner, what to make?_ Steve thought moving back away from the windows. _Bucky used to make this great chicken soup every winter,_ he thought, growing nostalgic. As he rooted in the pantry for ingredients, Steve suddenly realized it wasn't exactly amazing soup, as much as it was the care it was prepared with. In fact, it was little more than tap water and the bones from a chicken carcass that Bucky got at market before the butcher tossed it to the dogs. Maybe a few moldy carrots for flavor, but that was it. A smile came to his lips and happy thought filled his mind; _I'll show Bucky that I can make soup too._

Steve gathered his ingredients noting gratefully how easy it was now to make a soup that would have taken hours to prepare in the Depression. He poured the broth in the pot, cut up the carrots into chunks and diced up some pre-cooked chicken. In they went as the blue flames of the stove began to simmer the golden liquid. Soon, a pleasant home cooked aroma filled the apartment that took some of the chill off Steve's memories.

A key in the door made Cap jump as he stirred the pot. It was an old habit he had trouble getting rid of since all the S.H.I.E.L.D action lately. Bucky appeared in the door, lithe and unhurried as a feline. Steve still had a hard time watching James since his PTSD therapy because every move the man made still was as smooth and cunning as an assassin, whether he meant it or not. It was just part of the "new" Bucky.

"What smells so good?" Bucky asked in a calm, low tone glancing briefly in Steve's direction. The other thing Steve had yet to totally adjust to; Bucky rarely raised his voice anymore. It was as if Hydra had taken all the _joie de vivre_ in him and ironed it out into a highly controlled, measured mental state. Even his teasing and jokes were circumscribed.

"Oh, just some soup. You know. Nothing fancy." Rogers replied noncommittally seeing if Bucky would recall all the soup he made for Steve. Sam had mentioned reconnecting with the past would help Bucky warm up from his brainwashing.

"Hmm. Smells great. What's this?" James replied distantly and picked up the invitation after he took off his coat, hanging it on the adjacent wall hook. The silver arm glinted balefully in the lamplight.

Steve tried to keep from lingering on the arm and responded neutrally, "Just a invitation."

"Just an invitation. Where's mine?" James asked evenly holding the card in his hands but looking over his shoulder at Rogers. His blue eyes were framed by his shaggy bangs he chose to keep.

"Didn't see one." Steve replied turning to stir the pot. In his mind, he wondered if Bucky would be mad he didn't get one. It was hard these days to figure that out with James. "Ready for dinner?" he changed the subject.

"Yeah." James said, putting the card down by Peggy's picture and setting the small table in the dining room.

Steve ladled the hot soup into two bowls and carried them to the table. James finished by bringing two glasses of milk, a fondness he carried over from their childhood days. The _New York Times_ sat on the table and Steve poked at it absently not really wanting to read the news. The two sat quietly, sipping the soup, Cap waiting for James to say something.

"This is good." James complimented Steve, briefly raising his eyes.

"Thanks. I was thinking with the weather change, it would be a nice meal." Steve remarked, "Kinda like our old days, eh?"

Bucky stiffened slightly, almost imperceptibly but Steve saw it. Cap wasn't sure if it was a happy recollection. "Yeah." Bucky agreed and put another spoonful into his mouth. His gaze wandered to the paper where a girl had been saved the other day from an attack by a group of thugs. There was a brief description of the vigilante having a silver hand but the she wasn't sure. A small smile ghosted James's lips as he read the words. Brooklyn was a little safer tonight.

James turned his attention to Steve, who looked lost and starved for conversation. Bucky always felt remorse when his mind disappeared into the quiet, darker places, shutting Steve out. Rogers was trying so hard to help him and make up for the lost years. Barnes decided to work on not receding into the background. "That invitation. What's the occasion?" Bucky asked, seeing Steve's eyes brighten at the question.

"Oh. Yeah." Steve glanced toward the card in the small entryway, "It's from Stark. He's throwing a Thanksgiving party. Wants me… us to come." Steve replied somewhat awkwardly like a puppy tripping over its own feet in excitement.

James looked at Steve for a moment and saw the man who rescued him from Zola and all the other missions they completed, his chest warming appreciably for the friendship they shared. Bucky was trying to learn to not shut people out and that it was normal to reclaim feelings that he thought had been destroyed. It was with a warm bubble of brotherhood he replied with a half smirk, "Well, then you have to take a dame."

"Bucky… no." Steve protested putting down the napkin he had been wiping his mouth with, "Stark is being an ass … or forgetful or-"

"Stop making excuses for him." Barnes interjected feeling his attempt at humor not recognized, "He can invite who he likes."

"Yeah, but it was rude of him to exclude you." Steve felt his temper rising to defend James from this affront.

"Do I look offended?" James responded mildly trying to keep his own annoyance in check and Steve thought Barnes looked like he always looked these days; ready to kill someone with that detached composed expression.

"No but…" Steve stopped for a moment and then looked resigned, "I just thought…"

"Did you ever think maybe I was invited too by someone else?" Barnes changed course a bit and laid his comment gently out there seeing if his friend would pick it up. James noticed subtlety was becoming his style and he liked it.

Steve's eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second and then widened suddenly as the realization dawned on him, "Natasha?"

Bucky leaned back into his chair, hands in his lap, a satisfied smile on his face as the bangs framed his blue eyes, "There you go, Cap."

Steve sat stunned for a moment then blinked, "So that's why she wanted to know who my date was."

"Yeah, she asked me a few days ago." Bucky replied easily hoping to lighten the mood, draping his left arm over the back of the chair next to him. He watched Steve's gaze try not to look at it. "I'm not sure how Stark found her, but he did."

"So you obviously said yes." Steve replied now feeling a bit duped just like he would be when he was a shrimp. Old wounds from his pre-Serum days began to creep forward unbidden and bleed. The green specter of jealousy slithered out from under his chair.

"Of course." Barnes almost purred, his eyes twinkling slightly, "When has James Buchanan Barnes _ever_ said no to a lady."

"Right. I kinda forgot in all this stuff going on that you were such a playboy. Rub it in my face." Rogers' tone soured, leaning away from the table.

Bucky frowned slightly, keeping his thoughts private and then stood fluidly to get another bowl of soup. Cap sensed the tension between them like one of Stark's electrical arc generators.

"Did I make you angry?" Steve asked carefully, turning in his chair to stare at Barnes' back ladling soup into the bowl. James said nothing and sat down again. He resumed eating, blowing on each scalding spoonful before consuming it. Steve waited. The silence widened into an ocean with icebergs floating in it. "Buck?" Steve said, his voice repentant.

James put down the spoon gracefully as if it were a weapon. Running a hand through his hair, he leveled his gaze at Cap, his voice tightly controlled, "Steve, when will you ever be good enough for yourself?"

"What'dya mean?" Rogers responded, a look of incredulity on his face.

James inhaled a deep breath and let it out carefully as if he was holding in a blowtorch of rage, "You look for trouble, you have your whole life. You never look in the mirror and say you're good enough the way you are, Steve. Since you were a scrawny mutt when I first met you, you never were good enough for yourself." Bucky felt his throat began to tighten, "It was always 'Bucky- you're more handsome.' Or 'Bucky, I'm going to try till I die to get into the Army'. Or how you always had something to prove. The whole time, I've been there rooting you on, trying to talk sense into your thick head, but you keep beating yourself up even after saving the world ten times over." Bucky paused to let the worlds sink in, "When will you let it go and stop making me feel guilty for me _being me_? I haven't exactly had time to enjoy being my own self lately. I'm your best friend, not your _competition_."

The words hung in the air like smoke from cannon fire. Steve's eyes were wide as if James had slapped him. Bucky took in a few more controlled breaths and then resumed eating his soup having said his peace.

"So. All those years." Cap replied in a hollow tone, "You thought me some worthless cause. Then why you'd hang around?"

"Stop pitying yourself, punk. That's not what I said. You are your own worst enemy not a charity case." Bucky snapped quickly, his eyes a hard blue. Last time they were like that, James tried to kill Steve. Rogers held the stare then blinked. Barnes resumed eating.

"I'm not some goodie two shoes either." Steve grumped like a five-year-old boy, "I've had dates. I've…" Steve stopped realizing his tall tales were just talk. Natasha's voice came back about their escalator kiss. Yeah, he hadn't had time to really look at himself for who he was beyond the savior of the free world. The two men fell silent for a while.

"You know, we're grown now. I'm not your babysitter and you are not mine." Barnes broke the quiet after finishing his bowl.

Steve looked at him, "I know that."

"Do you?" James returned, wiping his mouth, "I don't have to listen to your sorry ass wheezing anymore. Or work double shifts to put food on the table. Or worry if we'd be evicted "just because" we were two guys living together." Barnes paused, "And we can have a happy Thanksgiving with people we like; not wondering what soup kitchen we'd eat from."

Cap took in a deep breath and looked away from his friend, his voice tired and resigned, "When you'd become so wise?"

"When I realized I could be myself again." A tender look crept into James' face, "And I saw what really mattered with my second chance." Rogers smiled a little back at him. As always, Bucky was right, no matter how amazing Steve had become, James always brought him back to center.

"Holidays are coming." Steve remarked with a shaky exhalation.

"Scares the hell out of me." James replied shoving his used napkin across the table with his fingers.

"Scared of what? No presents?" Rogers joked lightly, throwing his arm over the chair next to him.

"No. Memories." James replied, his voice insignificant, staring into space with a haunted look.

Steve glanced at the picture of Peggy. He knew exactly what Bucky meant.

**A/N… contemplating a third chapter… the party etc. Let me know what you think, and we'll see if I can write something satisfactory. Thanks for the readership. **


	3. History

Happy Thanksgiving, Steve ch 3

A few days later…..

Steve paused before he knocked on the apartment door, a bouquet of bronze and wine colored chrysanthemum flowers behind his back in a box tied with a bright orange taffeta ribbon. A lump rose in his throat. Why did he feel like he was just a stupid shrimpy teen again? _You know her_, he chided himself, _or at least you thought you did._

The door lock yielded and Rogers felt his knees tremble. Opening, the striking blonde appeared from the other side, "Steve! So nice to see you."

"Thanks… Sharon. Um.. may I come in?" Cap replied, his mouth feeling like he was chewing on cotton.

"Sure." The door opened wider as she pulled it open, "I haven't cleaned or anything, so please don't judge. Been busy with the new work. The CIA loves to welcome their new employees with double duty. Guess that's a way to filter out the weak ones."

"Well then they certainly don't know you." Steve complimented a bit more confidently. Sharon gave him a beaming smile and Rogers felt his cheeks flush slightly. Bucky was right, as usual; he was just a silly boy from Brooklyn no good with girls.

Rogers stepped in and Sharon closed the door behind him. The apartment was immaculate, Steve noticed, wondering why she was apologizing. "Can I get you something to drink, not-a-neighbor?" she asked, her warm blue eyes twinkling. Her CIA grey t-shirt and blue sweatpants made her look more approachable than her S.H.I.E.L.D. suit or "fake nurse" scrubs. Carter's wavy blond hair was pulled up in a sloppy Saturday morning ponytail.

"Water, please." Steve choked out. Why was everything different now that she wasn't a S.H.I.E.L.D officer anymore and his 'bodyguard'?

Sharon reappeared with the glass of water. Steve took it gratefully and swallowed before he extended his arm with the flowers, "For you."

Carter's eyes widened and she accepted them, "Lovely! I really enjoy fall colors. Thank you. Let me get a vase." She turned to walk back towards her kitchen, "What's the occasion?"

Steve followed her discretely behind, sipping on the glass, "Did you get an invitation from Tony Stark?"

"Yes. Yesterday. Why?" her eyes sparkled like sapphires with mischief as her ponytail swung lightly behind her as she fished out a vase from a cabinet.

"Well, I was wondering if… you have someone to go with." Steve replied feeling his cheeks flush again. He glanced away from her after he spoke.

"You're asking me?" she said genuinely surprised as she filled the vase with water. After blowing her cover for Fury's sake, he had been a bit frosty towards her. And then D.C. blew up, which didn't give them much time to chat.

A phone conversation from months ago swirled up in her brain, "_Sharon, give him a chance." Natasha had pleaded, "He's a real gentleman." _

"_I dunno, Nat. It's been a rough year." Sharon deferred on the phone, her shoulders dropping in fatigue after her latest mission. A tension headache was coiling up in her brain squeezing it painfully._

"_Tell me about it. Ok, but just do me a favor. Don't let Fury's orders get in the way of something that could be really nice." Natasha concluded and then said goodbye. _

"Yes." he managed trying to look at her again. A flashback to Peggy in car with him came rushing forward, but they had sat side-by-side shoulders touching, not face-to-face. It was so much easier to talk to women when he didn't have to be eye to eye. Pushing the memory away, not wanting to acknowledge the fact he was asking out his former loves' grandniece. He focused on her hands placing the stems into the vase gently one by one.

"I would be _honored_ and delighted. _Captain America_ is my plus one." Sharon smiled graciously and rested her hands on the counter, the flowers neatly arranged.

"Actually, I'd prefer if just Steve Rogers took you." Steve answered feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He just asked his first woman out. _What would Bucky say to this_, he wondered silently with an inward smile.

"Ok then. Steve Rogers is my date to the swankiest Thanksgiving party in New York." Carter responded, flipping her ponytail as she pivoted to take the flowers to her breakfast table, making Cap's stomach flip too.

"C'mon. Have a seat. We have to catch up. It's been too long since we were neighbors." Sharon said motioning toward her couch that faced a large picture window showing the Hudson River and Lady Liberty in the harbor.

"Yes, it has been a long time." Cap replied and took that seat, feeling more at ease than when he first got here.

"First, let me be honest. Fury made me do homework on you." Sharon said as Cap took the charcoal grey overstuffed chair opposite the pale yellow ikat-patterned couch where she sat, the natural light playing on her face.

Steve wasn't sure if he should feel defensive or unconcerned now that he knew Nick Fury a bit better. Deciding that in the end, Nick was on his side, he chose a casual attitude, "Oh really. No skeletons in there, I hope?"

Sharon chuckled lightly, tilting her head, "You've lived a very upstanding life."

"So this is confession?" Steve smirked back, relaxing in the comfortable plush chair.

"No. Hardly. Not to be insensitive, but your profile is one of the easier I've read. It was nice to read about a good guy for a change, instead of so much nastiness." Her expression sobered as if nightmares were resurfacing.

"I'm glad it was comforting." Rogers responded setting his empty glass on a side table.

"Ok. So now that is out of the way, how are you?" Sharon asked putting away the bad thoughts and folding up her legs under her on the couch. Steve noticed how contented she looked and that helped him to unwind a bit and remember why he was here; to live a bit more. It was nice.

"Fine. Out of a job but not like that hasn't happened before. Kind of my normal state of being, living through the Depression and all." Rogers said dryly.

"I think you, of all people, should call it not unemployed but 'on leave'." Sharon supported him. She recalled in her reading of his file that he rarely, if ever, took leave from any his tours but instead asked for more active service time.

"Either way, I don't have much going on and it's… strange." he replied deciding to look down at his shoes in the plush carpet, a sadness creeping over his expression.

"You know, that's not necessarily a bad thing." Sharon said softly sensing his discomfort.

"Yeah. But when you have time to yourself you start to think." Steve said looking up blue eyes pained, "And that can create problems."

"But you have Bucky. That's a good thing, right?" She tried to cheer him and change the subject a bit. _Don't over do it, Sharon_, she criticized herself.

"Yeah. That bum keeps me on my toes." Steve blinked and smiled a bit, "How about you? What have you been up to?"

"Oh staying out of trouble. CIA has me working counter-terrorism, mostly HYDRA cells right now. So more of the same, just different acronym. I talk to Maria from time to time. She said she was coming to the party too. Have you talked to Natasha? I can't locate her but that's not odd." Sharon shared.

"Yeah. Just spoke to her earlier in the week." Steve responded, fondly remembering the tone of her voice. Natasha would always be the spunky one of the bunch. It was just her nature.

"Any clue where she was?" Sharon asked, briefly getting up for a cup of coffee.

"Nope. But she's coming." he replied following her with his eyes.

"Oh, that's great. Who is she taking?" Sharon asked with interest.

Steve paused, wondering if he should tell. Bucky didn't say he didn't want someone to know, "Bucky."

Sharon almost dropped her cup of coffee. Quickly recovering, she put the cup down on the coffee table. Her poker face was not up quick enough.

"Something wrong?" Steve asked, frowning slightly. Did she know something he didn't?

"Hmm. That is great news." Sharon covered her expression, standing up from the couch and moving to her kitchen to appear to top off her coffee, but knew Rogers had seen her surprise.

"Sharon. Is there something I should know?" Cap asked, standing and feeling his combat reflexes engaging.

"Well. Damn, Rogers." Sharon faced him from across her kitchen counter and Steve noticed how much she looked like Peggy, "Ok. I guess you'd find out sometime or another."

"Find out what?" he approached her, his earlier reservations gone.

"We uncovered some intel after Bucky was found that showed he was not always in cryo between missions. Sometimes they would use him to train new spies and assassins because he was so good at it." Sharon felt ashamed to be telling Rogers this about his best friend. She also felt like she was betraying Natasha.

"Go on." Rogers' eyes were like lasers. His presence filled he small kitchen and she could feel his body heat radiating near her.

"It turns out that Nat and Bucky know each other from an earlier time, when she was young." Sharon answered quietly, "And were a romantic item for a while. The Russians allowed it because it made James more compliant. When he'd act out against their will, they would hurt Nat. Or the other way around."

"How sick… " Steve replied as if someone had punched him in the gut. Could HYDRA just stop torturing his existence for once? His hands curled into fists on the countertop and he stared angrily down at the polished grey granite surface seeing his reflection.

"I… Please… don't let them know I told you. I'm not sure you should know." Sharon asked and put a hand over Steve's.

"It's ok." Steve recovered his composure as he jumped at her touch. Looking up he responded, "That's great that they can.. I guess be together again without HYDRA ruining their lives."

"You… didn't have a thing for Natasha? Did you?" Sharon asked, subconsciously leaning forward towards him, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

Steve blinked in astonishment. Was Sharon admitting that she _liked_ him? The novel feeling crashed over him like a wave wiping away the hot anger he just felt. This emotional roller coaster was leaving him dizzy. He kind of liked it. Realizing she was waiting for him to answer, "No. No – "Sharon exhaled as if she was relieved, "I respect her a lot. She's a great partner, in the field."

"Hmm. I see." Sharon kept her hand on his and didn't lean back. Her eyes kept his transfixed.

"I… I think- "Steve leaned closer and then he met her lips. The kiss was light and sweet, like both of them were rejoicing in the innocence of it.

When they did separate, both of them looked stunned.

Finally Sharon broke the silence with a small smile, "Well, that was worth waiting for that load of laundry to get done."

Steve was grinning like a star struck fool, "I agree neighbor-not-neighbor." Both of them ogled for a moment more then Sharon's cell phone rang. Sharon looked disappointed then guilty, "Duty calls."

"Something like that." Rogers replied, knowing that feeling. "I can show myself out."

"Ok." Sharon said softly as the phone squawked, "We should get together before the party."

"Sure, I'd like that." Steve replied as he opened the door and let himself out.

Sharon let it go to voicemail as she stared at the now closed door. _Damn you, Sharon_, she cursed herself. _What are you getting yourself into?_


	4. Family

Happy Thanksgiving, Steve Ch 4

Maria sat in her spacious cubicle staring at the computer flat screen. Her work area was almost at the corner of the row, where there was a hint of natural light over the partition wall from the large glass windows of the Avengers Tower.

Gripping her large steaming coffee mug in both hands, she inhaled the dark roast scent, trying to get herself motivated for the day, now only a few months after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. Some days she woke up and felt like D.C. didn't happen, expecting to be back in the Triskelion building like the way it used to be, pacing the floor of the control room overseeing operations remotely.

There were those days too when she expected to see Coulson turn the corner at any moment and give her one of those kindhearted smiles. Maria was always amazed how he could keep such an optimistic outlook when they dealt with the underbelly of the world, particularly HYDRA. She missed him.

When they found Steve alive, it was almost too much relief for her to bear. She was certain he died on that helicarrier when he gave the command to fire. His authoritative baritone voice of, "DO IT!" rang in her ears for hours till they found him. She did not want his blood on her hands or to lose someone to integral to the future of freedom. But most of all, she didn't want to lose another friend.

Jolting her abruptly from her reverie, her private cell phone buzzed on the desktop. She looked at the screen, catching a photo of her, Natasha and Agent 13 pinned to the fabric of the cubicle in her peripheral vision. They were having a girl's night out in the picture, just three ladies enjoying themselves, not being saviors of the free world. What a happy time that was, she smiled to herself briefly before turning to the phone.

It was an unknown number, which meant only one thing: Nick Fury. "Hill." She answered.

"Maria. So nice to hear your voice! This is your uncle." The bass rumble came back from the other side of the phone.

"Of course Uncle! A pleasure for me too." she responded, wondering what the old man was up to these days besides eradicating HYDRA cells.

"I hear we're getting together for Thanksgiving. The family that is." he replied. Maria heard livestock in the background like a farmers market of some sort.

_How the Hell did Stark find him to send an invite_! Maria wondered to herself incredulously. _Probably one of his stupid drones, _she rolled her eyes.

"Yes. Here at the house." she replied enthusiastically in case anyone was listening. Nice was right about one thing: never trust anyone.

"Great. Tell your Dad I'll be there, would you? He's hard to get a hold of." Nick replied easily.

"Yes, I will. It will be great to see you. It's been too long." Maria said trying to suppress a hitch in her voice. She didn't realize how much she missed the old fart.

"Yes… yes it has been too long." She thought she heard a note of sadness in his tone too.

"Well then you take care of yourself, Uncle." Maria concluded. All she heard on the other line was a click.

Turning her attention to the screen again, she took a sip of coffee and began her day, pushing the ghosts of friends past behind her. Why did the holidays always seem to bring out those lost memories she wished would just stay that way?


	5. Iron Turkey

Happy Thanksgiving, Steve Ch 6

"_Sir, Ms. Potts has arrived."_ The serene voice of J.A.R.V.I.S. calmly intoned through the great room that sat above the city like a crown in the Avengers Tower.

Tony Stark rested in his black leather post-modern chair, swirling a highball of Evan Williams 23 bourbon slowly as if the liquid was an orbiting planet in the glass. His gaze wandered out to the dimming light of the fall sunset, lights springing to life in the city below. J.A.R.V.I.S automatically created a warm ambience based on the external light levels from a system of L.E.D.s and lamps scattered artfully around the room. Tony barely took notice of the spontaneous change in the room. He thought lazily, _she calls it feng shui_.

Pepper's heels clacked rhythmically down the short tiled hallway from the elevator bank and then into the room. Stark could tell by her pace, she was in a good mood. "Hello, dear." she smiled, bending down and placing a peck on his cheek. Her perfume tickled his nose familiarly. Turning to the bar and pouring herself some expensive chardonnay, she took the seat opposite him, casting off her black peep toe heels and burying her feet into the pristine white mohair rug. "What a day!" she sighed leaning back into the chair, "I got all the last minute party things together. What a dreadful mess with the florist! But in the end it worked out. And then- "

"Was this a bad idea?" Tony cut in quietly to her summation of her day, still staring to the light beyond the window. The sun was gone now and the city looked like diamonds sparkling in the black below.

Pepper stopped mid-sentence and frowned at him slightly. Sipping her wine for a thoughtful pause, she asked, "What do you mean?" It didn't go unnoticed to her that as Thanksgiving drew closer, Tony became more moody and irritable. Pepper kept cheering him on that this would be a great idea to bond with friends, who were now like family, and to be grateful for their friendship. Wasn't that what Thanksgiving was for?

"Getting married. No the party, of course! Although getting married is really scaring the crap out of me." he shot at her, his eyes haunted and slightly afraid despite his brusque tone.

Pepper ignored his sarcasm as she had learned to over the years. Shifting in the chair to face him she replied, "No, Tony. We've been over this a thousand times. Your friends will be glad to be together. We are a family, now."

"Oh yeah. The Save-the-World-One-More Time family. What a bunch of reprobates we are. How did I end up in that genealogy? I'm much more well bred." he brooded, sipping his drink.

"From being brilliant. Or did you forget that?" she replied dryly.

"You forgot amazing looking and rich, too." he responded. The haunted look didn't leave his eyes despite the bravado in his tone.

The close calls of recent years meant the holidays took on a new meaning and his own PTSD wasn't helping his attitude. Pepper lost count how many times he woke from nightmares screaming his parents names as November and December approached.

"You know, everyone will be here, except Thor and Banner. Not sure how to get an invite to him in Asgard. And Dr. Banner said such a large meal with football on TV might make him hungry for some destruction later. He didn't want to take the chance."

Tony didn't reply right away but gulped his bourbon. The searing liquid melted its way down his throat and coated his stomach in radiating heat. "That leaves who?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Steve, Natasha, and Maria." Pepper said plainly, "With their dates."

Tony gave her a look, eyebrow raised, "Dates? What are we? A E-Harmony for single superheroes?"

Pepper smiled warmly at him and Stark was reminded why he loved her. She was the only one who tolerated his curmudgeon ways. "No. Steve is bringing Sharon Carter from S.H.I.E.L.D.. Natasha is bringing Steve's best friend, James and Maria is bringing Nick Fury." she replied gently.

"Fabulous. Cap-cicle, the Bionic Man and three former government employees. How dysfunctional of a party this will be." Tony complained, throwing his arms into the air.

"Maria is an employee of yours now, Tony." Pepper reminded him, turning away to look out the windows.

"Wonderful. Get a few glasses in her, and she'll ask for a raise or complain about her job." He returned, pointing his finger at Potts accusingly.

"Trust me, it doesn't take even that much." Pepper replied slyly.

Stark, caught off guard for a second, gaped open-mouthed then carefully closed it as Potts smiled benignly at him mischief in her eyes, "Yup. You're my girl." His tone radiated affection.

"You bet I am." she replied, raising her glass to him. They clinked and drank.


	6. Central Park

Happy Thanksgiving, Steve ch 7

**A/N I'm going with the MCU of Steve living with the Barnes' after his mom dies, not in the orphanage, just FYI.**

_The day before Thanksgiving. _

A cool breeze sighed through the late fall trees. "Thanks for meeting up with me." Steve politely said as Sharon approached near the Tavern on the Green in Central Park. She was wrapped in a bright red wool car coat with a broad collar and lapel both chic and classic at the same time. Steve noticed how well the color contrasted with her blonde hair and his stomach twitched. The sun was like a distant warm blanket over their heads as the cool breeze that gently swirled around them. Pigeons fluttered above diving in for crumbs thrown by park goers and leaves swirled about their ankles.

Sharon smiled an honest smile, slightly amused at Rogers' discomfiture, "Well, it's not like we've had a lot of time between you asking me to dinner and now. I don't have much of a social life. Work takes care of that."

The _fweep chirp _of NYPD cars was barely audible, moving traffic away from Central Park West for the set up for the annual Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. The near naked trees, their golden and red splendor having been raked away and composted stood at attention around them. Children ran and played on the expansive lawns between the groups of trees. Sharon and Steve stood there for a moment just looking at each other, not sure what to say next.

Sharon made the first move, taking Steve's hand in her leather gloved one and pulling him down to a bench. He jumped slightly at her touch but was grateful to be sitting, "I love this time of year."

Steve looked out around at the park and the beautiful weather. Couples strolled during their lunch hour hand in hand, idyllically. "Yes, it's a great time." he sighed with remembrance in his eyes.

"Something wrong?" Sharon asked, concerned.

"Memories." Cap gave a lopsided sad smile, tilting his head in a way Sharon found endearing, "I remember my first Macy's Day Parade. Down 34th street. I was sixteen." Sharon regarded him with interest so he went on, "The parade started in 1924, but I was only a little kid and Dad… well Dad was gone. Mama didn't have the energy or train fair to take me when I was little. So I had to wait a few years." There was a pause as he recalled his mother's death and moving in with the Barnes family. Painfully swallowing the memory down, he continued, "Bucky and I, we found creative ways to get here to Manhattan from Brooklyn, or that ride would have bankrupted us back then. We heard that there was going to be a new balloon on the route. Mickey Mouse was going to be the star. That was really something." The fog of reminiscing clouded his vision as he gazed just past her shoulder.

"I know that must be tough." Sharon sympathized but didn't patronize. She knew his history from his file. It was tragedy after tragedy. She was perpetually amazed that the man was able to get out of bed every day.

Steve smiled appreciatively at her and squeezed her hand gently. He didn't mind telling his history but it was something he didn't want to dwell on either. "Well.. um, the parade was neat and Bucky and I had a great time. We met some girls, but as usual, I bombed. Buck and I avoided getting into another alley brawl, which was always a good thing, and we snuck home without Mama Barnes being any wiser." Steve finished not wanting to see the gaunt faces of the Depression swimming in his head.

"I can't imagine how much fun that would have been… to be all covert. Now with cell phones and everything, kids just can't be kids." Sharon observed then added, "I was pretty much a goodie two shoes growing up."

Steve raised an eyebrow, "You?"

"Yeah. Having your great aunt being 'THE' Agent 13 really puts a damper on subversive plans. Always trying to please the older generation, keep up the family name. Plus, when half your family is British, you get a stiff upper lip." Sharon mused.

"I knew some pretty bawdy Brits. I will say when they want to break loose, they do it with style." Steve recalled fondly Montgomery Falsworth and his pub songs and ability to put away more beer than he thought humanly possible.

"Yeah, when they do want to let loose the can. Problem is, they rarely do, at least in my family." Sharon chuckled, "You ready for tomorrow?"

Steve regarded her for a moment, "You mean am I ready to see my best friend go out with a co worker, put up with Stark's snark and a grouchy old man with one eye?"

"You forgot Maria. And me." Sharon playfully corrected.

"Oh.. yes. Maria will be some comic relief, and you will be the prettiest gal in the room." Steve found himself saying wondering where the hell _that_ came from. Was Bucky rubbing off on him finally after all these years?

Sharon blushed coyly. Nat was right, he was a gentleman. "Yeah, something like that."

"Well, I can fight aliens and HYDRA, but I'm not so sure about this one." Steve smiled with a laugh, which felt good for a change.

"I'm sure Steve Rogers will know exactly what to do. You always do." Sharon said scooting closer and resting her head on his shoulder.

Steve froze at the sudden forwardness but then relaxed, watching the people passing by. _Glad someone believes in me_, he mused then fell silent with Sharon just enjoying the moment and pushing the ghosts of the past behind him.


	7. Dressing (not for the turkey)

Happy Thanksgiving, Steve ch 8

**A/N In the comics Sharon and Bucky have met… actually he kidnapped her- sort of –before his rehab. I'm blending the MCU and the comic world a bit here.**

_Thanksgiving Day… time to dinner 4 hours. _

"Bucky. How does this look?" Steve asked, nervously standing in front of his bedroom mirror. Bucky was in his bedroom next door, finishing up his dressing.

Barely peaking around the corner, he gave an appraising look at the shirt, tie and sport-coated Rogers. "You look like a stuffed shirt. The invitation said 'comfortable'." Bucky replied dryly from his room.

"Yeah. But this is a … " Steve replied as his throat closed on the word 'date'.

Steve heard Bucky chuckle to himself, a rare sound, and the reply, "Rogers, you have not learned a thing about style, after all I've taught you."

"Well, if you haven't checked the calendar lately, your 'style' makes you look like a grandpa!" Rogers shot back at Bucky almost through the drywall.

"Speak for yourself." Bucky said and appeared fully in Steve's bedroom doorway, a pair of black jeans, a dark grey V-necked merino wool sweater with a plain crimson t-shirt. _The colors looked good on him_, Rogers noticed_, really good_. His hair was combed neatly but still long; a look that Steve didn't like necessarily.

Rogers looked Bucky up and down and suddenly felt like the grandpa in his khakis, small check plaid shirt and tweed sport coat. "Well, don't you look the fox in the hen house today." Rogers commented.

James shook his head with a smirk on his face, "Let me see what we can do for you, gramps." Walking into Steve's bedroom, he opened the closet door and found surprising little to work with, "If you told me you needed clothes, we'd gone shopping you big lunk. I dressed you when you were little and I'm doing it again!"

"You. Me. Shopping?" Steve almost stammered, "What's wrong with good old khaki's?"

Bucky cut him a disapproving look, "_This_ is why I get all the dates. Or at least one good reason why I get _most _of the dates. Seems you're making up on other parts for that." Rogers blushed, "So _who_ is this Sharon?"

Cap blushed harder as Bucky pulled out a pair of darker blue denim jeans and a not too-dated looking button down shirt of navy blue and white window pane plaid. "She's a nice gal. Worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. and now the CIA."

"Did I ever try to kill her?" Bucky looked at Steve directly and his eyes were serious, while holding up the shirt to Steve's face.

"Umm. No. No, you've met, but you didn't try to kill her." Steve swallowed at the unexpected question. Bucky did that from time to time; asking if he'd made attempts on people's lives since he'd been in rehab. It always unnerved him a bit as Bucky referenced his past life as the Winter Soldier.

"She sounds lovely." Bucky smiled and then shoved the shirt at Rogers. "Here, put this on. It's not the best but better than what you're wearing now."

"Fine." Steve lightly scowled at the bossy James as he undid the tie at his neck slightly grateful he wasn't going to wear one, "What do you think the girls are doing right now?"

"Who knows. Does anyone know what women do when they are together?" Bucky chuckled while shrugging.

"You have a point there, Buck." Steve agreed laughing lightly too.


	8. Parades

Happy Thanksgiving, Steve ch 9

_Thanksgiving Day, four hours to dinner at Sharon's apartment. Natasha flew into NYC incognito last night._

The TV in the family room played the last ends of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. The jovial local news anchors chatted pleasantly about the weather, the pretty floats and talented dance teams. College and high school marching bands strutted their stuff for their fifteen seconds of fame at the grandstand. Sharon stood before the flat screen, arms crossed over her chest watching, reminiscing.

"Looks like another successful parade." Natasha commented from behind her, "Glad we don't have to deal with the traffic."

"Yeah. But who ever drives in New York besides cabs and tourists?" Sharon replied over her shoulder, "Steve told me about when he saw the parade. In 1934 that was."

"How did that go? Talking to Mr. Goody Two Shoes?" Natasha teased lightly, pulling her hair out of her bedtime ponytail. Both women stood looking at each other in their pajamas.

Sharon blushed slightly, liking Steve Rogers but in the back of her mind wondering how far this would go between them. " Just … great. You were right. He really is a gentleman. That's a novelty."

"And easy on the eyes." Natasha added with a sly grin trying to get Sharon to admit more.

"Nat, you know I like men for their _minds_. Not just their _bodies!_" Sharon joked back, chucking a throw pillow at her.

Natasha laughed out loud as she easily caught the pillow, feeling like she did when she was young and had sleepovers like any girl; before the Black Widow program and the Red Room. And Bucky. The laugh died too quickly.

"What's the matter?" Sharon asked, concern in her eyes.

Natasha's eyes wandered off then snapped back to Sharon, "Huh? Just some… things on my mind."

"Ok." Sharon probed, " Like _your _hot date this afternoon?"

"Maybe something like that." Romanov pulled her poker face down and became coy for show.

"Ok Widow. Level with me. What's up with you and Barnes?" Sharon flopped gracefully onto her couch, regarding the assassin spy with an open curious expression. Two could play emotional subterfuge.

Natasha glared at her briefly then at the TV again as Santa's sleigh made its way down to 34th street. She too then melted onto the couch, hugging the pillow Sharon tossed at her to her chest as if it was the only thing between her and some abyss.

"James… Is. James was… " Natasha began hesitantly then stopped as if carefully considering her words, "He is an old friend. From my KGB days. He was on the same team as I was and sometimes he was my … teacher."

Sharon let the words settle into the quiet then spoke, "You love him?"

Natasha's hand flitted over her neck to the necklace of a tiny arrow in the middle of a gold chain; "Yes." was her quiet reply.

"Then this is a _good_ thing right?" Sharon asked, "I mean, he's found and getting some help."

Widow shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and then gave a small smile, "Yes. He's really coming around."

Sharon was sure that this was something she shouldn't press further, not liking how Natasha was reacting. It wasn't like her to be so… open. "Ok. Then let's get on our feminine charm to knock these bugle boys off their feet, shall we?"

"They'll never know what hit them." Romanov winked and smiled a devious smile.


	9. Reunions

Happy Thanksgiving, Steve ch 10

**A/N These chap-lets may be short, but I'm trying to polish them. Still deciding on what amazing dialogue I'll write for the actual dinner…. (no pressure, or anything.) Patience is requested.**

"There is a God." Bucky exhaled breathlessly, but just enough for Steve to hear as Sharon opened the door to her apartment. Steve smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder, reassuringly.

As the door parted, Carter behind, Black Widow was revealed in dark charcoal leather pants, black, heeled booties decorated with small metal studs, and a deep jewel tone green cashmere sweater with a deep cowl in the front. A lace camisole kept the sweater from revealing too much.

"Natasha." Bucky rushed in and embraced her, burying his face in the pillow of her scarlet hair. He gently twirled them around, Romanov's feet coming off the ground. Did Steve hear a sob of joy in their reunion tangle? "Я так по тебе скучал.**" he whispered into her ear. ** "I've missed you so much."

"Я тоже, любимая.** " She replied, her eyes crushed shut and hands wrapped around his neck. **" Me too, beloved."

Steve, watching Bucky and Widow, more cautiously stepped across the threshold as Sharon closed the door behind them. Carter, beaming at the reunited couple, warmly placed her arm behind him, drawing Cap closer by the hip. Rogers jumped at her touch, then looked at her, "Like what you see, Cap?" she commented wryly.

"My… I.. umm. You look … amazing." was all Rogers could choke out, blinking as Sharon stood beside him, skinny jeans, knee high brown suede boots and a coral colored sweater topped by a complimentary scarf. Her hair cascaded in rivers of wavy gold over her shoulders and her sapphire eyes twinkled. A more plum lip shade graced her face instead of the classic crimson her great aunt preferred, but it didn't matter to Steve. It was like as if Peggy was giving them some sort of sign to begin again and that felt good.

"You clean up pretty well too, Rogers." Sharon chuckled, "Remember, it's just me- Sharon."

"Yeah. I know… but just… Bucky is the guy with the silver tongue, not me." Rogers replied, his cheeks coloring but liking how close they were standing, the feeling of Sharon's hand on his hip.

"Well, Mom always warned me about _those_ guys." Sharon said loud enough for Bucky and Nat to hear as they were busy still embracing and whispering in Russian to each other. Steve averted his eyes to the ceiling and began to whistle a tuneless song.

"And look where that got you. No sense of adventure." Natasha shot back, her eyes aflame with love and tears as she gazed at James. She kissed him, Barnes did not resist.

"Ok you two. It's not like this is prom. It's Thanksgiving, for crissakes." Steve admonished them.

Bucky glanced at Steve, a few marks of lipstick on his mouth and commented, "We're just making up for lost time."

"Lost time." Rogers replied a shadow of melancholy in his tone then glancing at his watch, "We'll all be losing time and food if we don't get ourselves going here."

Sharon wrapped her other arm around Steve with a gentle hug as he looked at her; understanding in her eyes, "I'm sure you'll find a way to catch up on that time, Steve."

" I need to touch up a bit." Widow extracted herself from James' embrace to the restroom. James watched her walk down the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, a warm smile on his face, which was nice to see.

James felt Roger's eyes on him, "What?"

"You have some explaining to do, mister. Later." Rogers teased from behind Carter's hold, as she unfolded herself from him. Suddenly Cap felt colder when she let go.

"Steve, when will you learn, I'm your best friend but I don't _have to_ tell you everything." his voice was deadly low, but eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Apparently." Rogers stiffed up a bit as Romanov appeared again. He held the door for the ladies, then playfully shoved Bucky out the door. James cussed under his breath, casting glares over his shoulder.

Sharon locked up and Steve politely offered his arm to her. Wrapping her hands around his forearm, it felt nice to finally have a gentleman but equal to her. Looking at Rogers and Bucky holding hands with Romanov, she thought with great fondness that they certainly did have a lot to be thankful for.

"Let's go eat!" James declared.

"I'm all for that." Rogers seconded.


	10. Dinner-Finally

Happy Thanksgiving, Steve ch 11

Pepper bustled about the kitchen with her show-apron on over her yellow dress, heels clicking merrily feeling like a page out of Williams Sonoma or Martha Stewart. _This will kick Tony out of his funk,_ she thought, _after all the therapy he refuses to go to, this better!_ The food was all catered in, but she insisted on making sure it as warmed and served properly.

J.A.R.V.I.S intoned, "_Ms. Potts, some of your dinner guests have arrived_."

"Which ones?" she replied spooning jellied organic cranberry jelly into a serving dish.

"_I can detect Captain Steve Rogers, Ms. Carter, Ms. Romanov and I believe its Mr. Barnes. My facial recognition images are not up to date on him, but based on recent events, I conclude it is he_." J.A.R.V.I.S's calm accent replied.

"Not surprising. Barnes has been incognito for about 70 years." Pepper muttered to herself, "Please show them in."

"_I will, Ms. Potts_." J.A.R.V.I.S replied.

"And let Tony know we have guests." Potts said with an annoyed tone for her fiancé. Stark had been stewing and hiding in their bedroom for several hours before dinner.

"_Absolutely, Ms. Potts. Mr. Stark has been notified_." J.A.R.V.I.S informed.

She stopped what she was doing, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead and then pouring herself a small glass of vodka, neat. She sipped it while casting irritable looks in the direction of their bedroom.

The chime of an arrived elevator rang out and the foursome appeared in the foyer. Pepper put her glass down and met them, arms wide, "Welcome! So glad you could all come."

Steve leaned down and pecked Potts' cheek with a smile and introduced Sharon. Then Bucky stepped up for an introduction, "This is my best friend, Seargent James Barnes."

Pepper put on her best hospitality face; she knew what he had done in D.C. and had an inkling of his past. Not sure how to gauge a former assassin, she smiled gently and extended her hand, "Pleased to meet you. Steve has said many great things about you."

Bucky had withdrawn slightly into his shell at the elevator. Natasha watched him carefully for any signs of anxiety in his calm exterior. "The pleasure is all mine. Tony Stark is a very lucky man." Bucky's voice was low and deadly calm as he shook her hand politely. Everyone seemed to take a breath after that exchange.

"Can I get anyone a drink? Tony is getting ready, still. More of a girl than I am!" Pepper asked the facetious remark towards Stark.

"Just like his dad. Showboat." Barnes muttered to Steve and Rogers cut him a look.

"Club soda." Sharon requested.

"Black Russian." Widow replied with a smirk at Barnes.

"A Coke for me." Steve requested and Barnes held up a hand for two.

"Ok. Give me a moment!" Potts said cheerfully as she stepped into the kitchen from the large open family room. Sometimes it seemed to her that all their rooms just blended together as they perched atop the new Avenger Tower. "J.A.R.V.I.S tell Tony to get his butt out here now!"

"_Yes Ms. Potts. Shall I use the Kick in the Pants protocol_?" J.A.R.V.I.S inquired.

Pepper thought for a moment and then her eyebrows knit together evilly, "Yes."

Coming out with the drinks on a tray, Steve commented, "Thanks for inviting us. It's nice to get together under what I would consider normal circumstances."

Pepper was about to answer when Tony staggered down the hall, rubbing his backside. Apparently J.A.R.V.I.S did as he was told. "Not every one is here, yet." he slurred slightly.

"Oh?" Widow turned toward him, seeing the storm clouds enter Pepper's eyes. She had heard that Tony wasn't himself after New York, which was one of the reasons why Nick hadn't called him in to D.C. for backup.

"'Oh' is right. We have a party planned, gosh-darn-it. Courtesy of my lovely lady here." Stark sidled up to Pepper and she could smell the drink on his breath. Cursing to herself, she thought she had moved all the liquor out of the bedroom. Apparently not.

"So who _are _we expecting?" Widow pressed choosing to ignore the apprehensive looks of the others as they sipped on their drinks.

"Hmm… let's see." Stark rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Nick Fury for one." At that Natasha's eyes opened wider, "Maria Hill for another."

"Nick!? And did anyone think, sorry Pepper, that that was a good idea with Bucky here too?" Steve spluttered out before he could make a better choice of words.

Pepper blushed slightly, "I think that Mr. Fury _understands_."

"He understands that … " Steve began but James put his metal hand over his friends' arm to stop him.

"I did something didn't I?" Bucky asked, his blue eyes growing darker, tense lines forming at the corners of his mouth.

"Well, yes. But you had no idea what you were doing!" Sharon interjected, equally surprised at the other guests.

"Then," Barnes swallowed uneasily, shifting between feet, "I can say I'm sorry."

"I suppose you can." Steve replied amicably and patted his friend's hand reassuringly.

"Yup, just quick step yourself up to Nick and say 'Sorry I blew you up!'" Stark pantomimed an explosion with his arms. The mood in the room became very dark and Tony was at the focus of the animosity.

Romanov put down her drink. "Mr. Stark, I think I need to speak to you right **now**." Romanov hissed at him, grabbing him strategically by the elbow making the playboy yip in pain as she guided him back towards the kitchen, behind some cabinetry.

Pulling out a tiny button like devise, she stuck it to his skin and pressed. Instead of electricity, out flowed epinephrine snapping the tipsy billionaire instantly sober. "If you think, for one moment," Natasha growled, inches from Stark's nose, "that you are going to ruin Pepper's Thanksgiving dinner she planned for **your **selfish ass, or make James feel anything less than the hero war vet he is, then you are a seriously messed up asshole. And I don't _**like**_ assholes."

"Always a pleasure talking with you too Ms. Romanov." Tony purred back yanking himself free of her grip, "For the record, thanks for the pep talk. Where did you get those nifty little picker-upers? Now I can go back to being my normal charming self. Excuse me." Stark helped himself to Perrier water from the fridge and left the kitchen.

The guests were making small talk and trying to keep Pepper from the verge of tears. Tony sauntered up with Widow behind like a storm cloud ready to strike. "Sorry. Just… it's been a helluva year, hasn't it?" Tony apologized and gave Potts a kind hug around the shoulders. She leaned in a bit, but was still frosty.

"Yes, it has." Sharon observed as she saw the muscles tense in Steve's jaw, his eyes flinty. James remained unreadable as Natasha took up her place next to him.

"_Ms. Potts, your other guests have arrived_." J.A.R.V.I.S informed.

"Please, let them in." Pepper replied.

"Now it's time for the real fun!" Tony remarked with his trademark smirk, raising his water to the air for a toast. No one joined him.

_Yup, lots to be thankful for_, Steve thought taking in the spectacle around him. If anything it seemed Bucky was taking it better than he expected.

In the elevator, Maria shifted her weight in her boots. It felt weird being next to Nick again after his "death" and subsequent underground seclusion. She wasn't sure what to say to him anymore. Finding something neutrally conversational she asked "Looking forward to some turkey and stuffing?"

"I hope they have some sweet potatoes. I really miss those. My mamma, she could cook some of the best." Nick replied in his trademark gravelly baritone with as much lightness that Maria had ever heard in his voice. He turned to look at her, his dark glasses reflecting her serious expression and gave a small smile. "C'mon Agent Hill. Relax."

"I'm not Agent Hill anymore. In fact, Tony is my boss now. Which is kind of weird." Maria reminded him with bittersweet in her tone.

"To me, you always will be Agent Hill." Nick replied as the doors chimed, sliding open with a light hiss.

"Thanks, Nick. That means a lot." she replied warmly.

"You're welcome. Don't expect another compliment for a few years." Nick said quickly stepping out of the elevator, Maria next to him with a smile of humor on her face.

Pepper met them in the foyer and Nick gave her a polite greeting, as did Maria. "Can I get you something to drink?" Potts asked her new guests.

Nick looked past her and saw Bucky standing next to Natasha. For a moment he tensed for battle, his good vision tinted red but he blinked, inhaling a deep breath as if to calm himself, "Whiskey. Straight."

Maria was equally shocked that Barnes was standing there, but was less able to hide her expression. Potts looked back and forth at them, hoping this was a good decision to mix these personalities.

Pepper looked at Nick and said, "I thought that … he's been in therapy. Recovering from-"

"PTSD. I know. Trust me, I know." Fury finished with an edge in his voice. Looking at Potts more kindly, "Don't worry. I won't be starting any fights. I've had enough of those recently."

Maria gave a thin smile and asked for some water. Pepper nodded and moved to the kitchen, while Maria and Nick moved to join the assembled group.

"Nick you old dog!" Natasha exclaimed and moved to hug the big man. He welcomed it but kept his eye on Barnes, looking for any traitorous expression.

"Old dog, now? I have sunk in your regard for me, Natasha?" he looked down at her humorously, her face reflected in dark lenses.

"It's about as affectionate as I get." Widow replied releasing him, "You look good."

"Thanks. It gets harder every year looking this great." he joked. A round of polite laughter circled the room then quieted.

Steve decided this would be a great time to introduce Bucky, who had been quietly watching the scene unfold, unmoving. "Nick, this is Seargent James Barnes."

Nick carefully, with the steadiness of a trained warrior, extended his hand for a shake, "Seargent Barnes of the 107th. Thank you for your service." His tone was imperturbable.

James met his eyes, but it was not with anger or some phantom memory, "Director. A pleasure. Sorry if I ever caused you trouble." They shook firmly.

"Nothing this 'old dog' can't handle as part of his job." Nick returned. The room warmed up a few degrees. "Are you doing well, soldier?"

James blinked, a bit surprised at Fury's mannerly concern, "I'm getting… better."

"Excellent. Don't let this big guy boss you around." Nick waved at Steve, "He's tried that with me from time to time. I'm afraid if I let him get away with it too many times, he'll think _he's _the boss." Bucky was starting to smile now, which was rare these days as Fury continued at Rogers' expense, "And I'm not sure what would happen if Steve thought he was the boss. I've read reports."

"Well, if things were done the right way for the right reasons, you wouldn't have these issues, Nick." Rogers defended himself, but happy that Barnes was enjoying the ribbing.

"Still on that First Amendment trip eh, Cap?" Stark decided to interject, waving is Perrier bottle like the Statue of Liberty.

"Better plan that you got, Stark." Carter shot back, her eyes sharp.

"Look. It's Thanksgiving. Can we please put aside the politics today?" Maria interceded as Pepper came back with the drinks for Nick and Maria.

Rogers and Stark glared at each other for a few seconds then nodded almost imperceptibly.

"To Thanksgiving. New friends, old friends and happier days to come." Pepper raised her own glass of chardonnay for a toast.

"Cheers!" Steve said, extending his Coke.

"Na Zdorovie!" Natasha said holding up her glass. James raised his Coke too after clinking his to her drink.

"Bottoms up!" Carter replied.

They all drank a sip when a sudden rumbling noise from the roof interrupted their salutation. Everyone tensed immediately, as if ready for combat.

"J.A.R.V.I.S?!" Stark called out to the robot.

"_Sir, we have more guests_." J.A.R.V.I.S responded, unruffled.

"Identify!" Tony said menacingly.

"_It is the Asgardian prince Thor, Mr. Barton and Dr. Banner_." J.A.R.V.I.S replied smoothly.

"What the hell- " Stark muttered with a stunned look at Potts.

"I didn't think they would make it! How was I supposed to get an invite to Asgard? Do you know how hard it is to find Barton and Banner?" Potts sputtered defensively, "J.A.R.V.I.S, let them in from the roof elevator."

"_Yes, Ms. Potts_." J.A.R.V.I.S answered.

"So we have some party crashers." James said slightly amused, "Remember doing that, Steve?"

Rogers looked reminiscent then mischievous, "Yeah. Those were fun."

"Well, the more the merrier, right?" Nick interjected, "And it's been a while since I've seen those scoundrels."

"Calling a prince of Asgard a scoundrel, Director Fury?" the massive baritone of Thor entered the penthouse from the elevator foyer.

"What else would fit?" Nick responded coolly.

"If I spoke all my titles, it would take hours." Thor replied with a hearty smile, "And I do not wish to waste your poor mortal life, by my mercy." Behind him Bruce and Clint stepped in.

"Thank you ever_ so_ much." Fury replied dryly folding his arms over his chest.

"Boy, he knows how to make an entrance." Banner commented satirically, greeting Pepper. Clint followed suit. Bruce gave her a bouquet, "Sorry for crashing."

"This day could _not _get better." Pepper responded a little acidly, "But you are welcome. All of you."

People mixed and mingled in the great room, while Pepper corralled Tony to help her in the kitchen.

Natasha saw Clint behind Thor and froze. James sensing her mood shift, looked at her with concern, "You ok?"

"I'm.. fine." she lied, hand instinctively reaching for the arrow necklace suspended just below her throat, "Excuse me." She departed for the restroom.

Clint had seen Widow immediately and the guy she was standing near so intimately. Feeling his blood pressure tick up a few notches, he watched them. The man leaned in close and asked her a question and her hand touched the necklace Barton had given her. She then departed. Clint decided to meet this "new man" in her life. Marching up to Barnes he introduced himself curtly, "Clint Barton. Aka Hawkeye."

" Seargent James Barnes." Bucky replied shaking his hand and feeling the building anger in the archer.

"So you an Nat know each other?" Clint asked making no attempt to hide his growing animosity.

"You could say that." James played cool.

"Really. You two an item or something?" Clint pressed, feeling his muscles begin to bunch with resentment.

"We have history." Barnes replied nonchalantly. Steve was just in earshot and could tell this was not going well. Natasha had mentioned Hawkeye as a past lover once in a very brief conversation that, as Rogers recalled, made him blush excessively. This could not go well.

"Well, so do I." Clint leaned in slightly, his smile menacing.

"I think the lady is able to decide for herself whom she wants to date. And if that is not you, you have my sympathies. Now _back off_." Barnes leaned in as well, muscles tensing for the first strike. Some of the therapy began to wear thin as he found murderous thoughts penetrating his consciousness.

"Guys. Really? Are we just a couple of teenagers brawling in an alley over a girl?" Steve tried humor to diffuse the situation. Both men looked at Steve with intimidating expressions.

Suddenly, Widow returned looking fierce, "Boys. Nock this off right now."

Clint suddenly looked like a whipped puppy and Barnes stood down into his inexpressive shell. She turned to Barton, "Come with me." He nodded in response and followed Romanov out to the balcony of the penthouse. Through the windows, everyone saw the conversation, inaudible, but very clear through body language what was being said.

Maria and Sharon commiserated about ex's at parties and Steve listened but said nothing, never having an 'ex'. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Obviously, it complicated your life, but maybe that was a positive thing? Suddenly, he wondered how many ex-boyfriends Peggy had. Or Sharon. Or any of them. Certainly, he was at the bottom of the list and Tony at the top. Who knows, maybe Bucky would out score Tony for ex-girlfriends, if you didn't count one night stands. Either way, Steve felt a bit left out of the gossip.

Everyone tried to ignore the couple when they returned from the balcony. Clint walked up to James and said in a low tone, "Sorry."

"No problem." James replied neutrally and then looked at Natasha, who still looked slightly conflicted. They could have that conversation later.

"Dinner is ready!" Pepper chimed pleasantly.

"Avengers assemble." Clint said quietly to Banner who just gave him a sidelong look.

"Perfect. I have heard about this great feast you Midgardians call Thanksgiving." Thor commented eyeing the buffet.

"Well, don't eat us out of house and home, you big lug. I remember our shwarma bill." Stark replied with a frown, "I think I financed that guy's complete remodel."

Everyone marched by making kind comments on the aromas and sights of the food set before them. Turkey, stuffing, three kinds of casserole, mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes all steamed before them. Cranberry relish glistened enticingly like tart rubies. Heaping their plates high, the Avengers and ex-S.H.I.E.L.D agents sat at the long table assembled in the middle of the great room.

Tony took the head seat and Pepper the opposite, with people trying to make space for Thor and giving Banner plenty of room, just in case. Clint sat opposite Natasha as if being close to her would make his feelings less bruised. James kept a wary eye on him. Forks poised above their delicious meal, everyone was about to dig in when Rogers spoke up, "Shouldn't we say grace?"

All eyes averted to him, some looking disappointed that they couldn't just tuck into their meal, "What is this 'grace' you speak of, Captain?" Thor asked, looking a bit annoyed and hungry.

"It's a prayer or statement to say that we are glad we are here, together." Steve replied.

"Well, I guess you have the floor, Rogers." Nick said putting his fork down. The rest followed suit as Tony rolled his eyes, sighing. A few inclined their heads, expecting a benediction, but were surprised at Cap's words.

Clearing his throat, he began, "When Bucky and I were kids, Thanksgiving was a big deal. It was more a big deal when you had money to put food on the table. Growing up, we didn't always have that food on the table. Sometimes we had to borrow that food or work our tails off for it. Sometimes by the kindness of strangers, we ate Thanksgiving. But each time, it wasn't about the food or the ceremony, it was about family. Family is what I see here. I see people who are as different as night and day, enjoying this wonderful food together, here and now as a family. We might argue and fight sometimes, but we are together as family no matter what the Heavens or Earth throws at us." Steve paused, "And Pepper, I am sure this is going to taste delicious, but I am more grateful for the people here today, " Rogers reached over to clasp Barnes' shoulder, shaking it gently, Bucky returning the look of brotherhood easily, "and that is what I am thankful for."

The company sat silent for a moment absorbing the message that Steve had just given them. The food seemed forgotten as did the earlier drama brought up by their gathering. Sharon raised her glass with a solemn tone, "Happy Thanksgiving, Steve." Ten more glasses raised, silently.

"You sure you've never considered being a politician?" Tony asked, "Because that was pure gold."

"Tony, stop being such an ass." Widow shot at him. Potts snickered from her end of the table.

"Hey, gotta be me!" he winked at her, while wiping his mouth. Natasha shuddered.

The meal continued with no more low shots and jealous comments. In fact it was rather peaceful.

Bucky leaned over toward Steve among the conversation his voice rich with emotion, "Never thought we'd do this again."

"Yeah. Feels like it's too good to be true." Rogers agreed noticing Bucky's earnest gaze and taking a sip of his drink.

"Enjoy it while it lasts." James replied, resting his chin in his hand briefly.

" I am. And I'm glad you're here with me." Cap returned, that little kid smirk at the corner of his mouth.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Steve." James replied with a grin, "You punk."

" You too, wingnut." Rogers returned with a smile, clapping Barnes' on the back, "Till the last one." Natasha and Sharon watched the two best friends commiserate and shared a private look between them admiring their brotherly bond. It was a good Thanksgiving.

End.

**A/N… this story really went from a one shot to this "Thing" very quickly. I don't consider myself a great conversation writer. I write in sound bites. I want to have meaning, but not be overwrought with meaningless drivel. With such LARGE well-defined personalities I wanted to make sure I got it RIGHT. Plus, I'm a noob to the comic world so much I draw from is the MCU. Then I was inspired from a commenter to include more characters as if I didn't have enough already. This took me 3 days to write this chapter, with much editing, polish and thought. With that mea culpa, I hope this satisfies your holiday wishes of seeing some normal wounded people getting together for a holiday meal, like many families who experience loss do, every year. I hope I also stayed true to the MARVEL characters, themselves. 8belles**

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